


Not With a Bang, But a Whimper

by PuppyGuppy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Bittersweet, First Kiss, First Times, M/M, Pining Riku, Selfcest, Soft and gay, Un-beta'd we die like men, brief mentions of sokai but only to really bring out the bitter undertones in this sweet dish, handjob, one of the two better options for how the whole paopu scene should have gone, soriku if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24672085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy
Summary: I know what you’re doing, Riku.Riku didn’thearRepliku so much as he just knew what he had said. He’d watched his mouth form the words, and watched as eyes the same color as his own swam with the same kind of warm, crystal clarity as the water around them. Riku hummed, a rather useless action, before forming his response.And? What am I doing?
Relationships: Riku/Repliku, Riku/Riku Replica, Riku/Sora
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Not With a Bang, But a Whimper

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I _had_ to get out of the way before Crab Season. Purely self-indulgent, and possibly the softest and gayest thing I have ever written.

“I’d rather face my end with  _ you,  _ than in darkness.”

“That’s...what you want?”

“ _ Yeah.  _ ”

They held eye contact like that for a long, peaceful moment. Riku and his replica. Riku couldn’t help but flick his gaze across his face,  _ searching,  _ then trailing that gaze lower when all he found was the sincerity of a smile. His replica -  _ Repliku,  _ he’d affectionately dubbed him during their time of sharing a heart, looked  _ good.  _ He looked healthy, and happy; as happy as one could be, given their,  _ his,  _ situation. A hell of a lot better than how he’d...left him.

_ Broken. _

However, sitting beside him now, and damn near mirroring his exact position, was not a broken boy. But a  _ glowing  _ boy. Content, youthful, and bathed in the rays of the setting sun. It turned the green of his eyes a bit ruddy; served only to accentuate the softness tucked into the corners there, and tinged the sharp contrast of his silver hair to something just as soft, too - like  _ lilac.  _ Riku didn’t understand it, but wanted nothing more than to encourage it. Repliku had been created by hands intending to harm, filled with fake memories and then doomed to darkness. In the end, he’d  _ accepted  _ that. Really, maybe, it was no wonder then, that he’d accepted this second chance to see the sun again.

Riku knew, were their roles reversed, he wouldn’t be sitting there looking so  _ soft.  _ He’d let the guilt and bitterness and shame wash over him; again and again, like the ocean lapping at the beach just beyond their toes. He knew he probably didn’t look nearly as soft  _ now,  _ but whatever his replica was seeing, it didn’t seem to bother him any; didn’t waver the smile on his face, even as he turned his eyes back towards the sea. Riku laughed, the response sifting through his lungs like sand through his hands. He found he didn’t mind - it’d felt  _ natural.  _ Nice and easy.

Just like life used to be.

Just like life  _ should  _ be.

He knew he shouldn’t have, but Riku risked a glance over his shoulder and to the left. There was the old paopu tree, as strong and sturdy as ever, easily supporting the weight of his two friends sitting atop it’s curved trunk. Between them, held in one of Kairi’s dainty hands, a paopu  _ fruit  _ ; Sora staring at the offering with both his eyes and his mouth wide. Where they were sitting, the blue of his best friend’s eyes seemed to  _ shine,  _ the backdrop of his face obscured slightly in the shadows cast by the tree’s fronds, but ignited by the sun. The only bit of sky blue visible for  _ miles,  _ Destiny Islands caught in the flames of a mild evening. He couldn’t see Kairi’s face, but he considered that a blessing, as selfish as it was.

_ Good for them. _

Riku closed his eyes and shook his head, once, twice, and then sighed. The sound was short, wistful and amused. He leaned back on his braced arm a bit more, and when he opened his eyes, he was looking back at his replica. Who was looking at  _ him.  _ They held eye contact again for another long moment. It wasn’t awkward or anything, it’s not like they had anything to  _ hide  _ from each other. They’d been sharing a heart for more than half of Riku’s journey, afterall.

“...Come on. I want to show you something.”

The trek to The Secret Place was short, and relatively silent. Which was to say,  _ they  _ were silent, but the world around them was nothing but noise. The sound of the sand shifting and cooling beneath their feet, the rhythmic rolling of the waves behind them, the increasing volume of the rushing waterfall in front of them. The crickets and locusts had only just started to wake up, filling the air with the occasional chirp and vibration; taking over for the gulls now tucking into their nests for the night. The breeze wasn’t as strong this far inland, but sometimes a good gust would rattle some leaves and knock some coconuts together.  _ Nature’s Orchestra.  _

They were playing a song he was familiar with. One he’d taken for granted as a kid. One he’d  _ destroyed.  _ The song of Destiny Islands. Of Summer. Of lazy afternoons, of friends and family. Of home. Of  _ safety.  _ The last little taste of it before the dawning of war. It occurred to Riku, then, that his replica had never actually  _ been  _ to Destiny Islands before. He’d had memories of home, though altered and fabricated, but he’d never actually  _ been  _ ...home. He’d never indulged in the warmth of the sun long enough to burn, or tried to open his eyes beneath the sea only for it to sting, or been bitten by some mysterious bug or another. He’d never raced for pretty stones, or climbed trees for bird eggs, or looked for mushrooms they probably  _ shouldn’t  _ eat in caves. He’d never sparred for something as simple as the right to  _ gloat.  _ Without his very existence depending on it.

Riku couldn’t give him all that in just one night. Couldn’t give him  _ everything.  _ But, he could give him a little - and maybe that could still be more than enough.

The sun had mostly set, but the temperature of the island remained warm; the sand and stone were not likely to lose their heat until late into the night. Which meant it was  _ perfect  _ weather for a bit of a swim. Wordlessly, Riku shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the sand at his feet. He then bent down to untie, unbuckle, and shuck of his boots, followed quickly by socks which he shoved into the bottom of said shoes. The sand was pleasant beneath his soles, and he took a moment to curl his toes into it before carefully stepping over rocks and into water. Which, though notably cooler, was still nothing short of  _ pleasant.  _ This pool was fairly shallow and still, save for where the waterfall fed into it; it almost functioned as a private little hot spring that way. It wasn’t until the water reached his knees that he stopped and turned around, offering his replica an encouraging smile and a familiar, outstretched hand.

There was a moment’s hesitation between them, Repliku flicking his eyes from Riku’s open palm, to the smile on his face, and back again. But, Riku wasn’t a mind reader, no matter  _ how  _ similar they were - there was no way for him to know just  _ what  _ his replica was thinking for those few seconds before a decision was made. But, whatever had  _ caused  _ the hesitation must have  _ lost,  _ because a gloved hand slowly, but surely, slid into his own. Riku’s smile then  _ grew,  _ turned a tad bit playful, before he curled his fingers around his replica’s wrist and  _ pulled.  _ The action caused a bit of a stumble, but Riku was steady and strong and  _ ready,  _ that when Repliku went crashing into the water, and subsequently  _ him,  _ he caught him in his arms.  _ Easy. _

As the water rippled and settled around them, Riku couldn’t help but take note of what a few years’ difference really  _ could  _ make. Holding his replica wasn’t much different than holding  _ Sora  _ \- not something he’d done much as of late,  _ sadly,  _ but the sentiment remained. He almost couldn’t believe he’d been so short at what, fifteen? Sixteen? But then that darkness had mixed and mingled with his body’s natural growth spurt, and now at seventeen, he stood at  _ least  _ a foot taller than Repliku. Not that his muscle mass had evened out any; it was quite obvious, what with the way he had his arms wrapped around his other’s shoulders, that a majority of his muscle had been and still remained to be, in his upper body.

“ _ Careful.  _ ” Riku teased. He had to fight off the desire to give his replica a bit of a squeeze before letting go, taking a few steps back, deeper into the water and to give Repliku some space.

“ _ ‘Careful’,  _ he says.” Repliku teased right back, complete with a smirk of his own and a well-intended eye-roll. Riku only had a second to flinch before his replica dipped his hand into the water and sent a splash his way.

The small wave mostly landed across Riku’s chest and face. He’d tried to shield himself away from the “attack” by raising his arms, but it was only water, and water was pretty good at getting everywhere regardless. Besides, he was already wet up to the knee - and only getting  _ wetter.  _ He made sure to send his own splash right back in retaliation, grinning smugly when most of it landed in his replica’s hair. “You know,” he started, lifting both his hands up and shrugging in some symbol of peace, “The water feels better against your  _ skin.  _ ” Riku could only watch as that same hesitance flashed behind his replica’s eyes again. As leather-clad shoulders sagged, as gloved fingertips barely brushed against the water’s surface. Something grew heavy between them, suddenly, as the sky shifted from one spectrum of color to the next, revealing the first few stars of nightfall. 

“I know what water feels like.” Repliku stated. Short and simple.  _ Reserved.  _ It was the first time since reuniting that Riku had heard him talk like that. 

When his replica had saved him, Riku had felt like he was  _ drowning.  _

“No, you really don’t.” Riku, just because he knew he  _ could  _ , just to prove a  _ point  _ , matched that tone.

There was a bit of a standoff, then. A silent stare-off. While Repliku seemed to be daring Riku to drop it, Riku challenged his replica to prove him  _ wrong.  _ The atmosphere was still relatively friendly, though, so Riku took a risk and walked himself backwards, back into the spray of the waterfall. He kept going until the mist merged with the early night and created a curtain of white noise that blocked him completely from Repliku’s view, and Repliku from his. It was loud, sure, and he’d officially soaked himself through to the bone, but the pressure was rather  _ nice.  _ He didn’t mind waiting there, even though he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure as to what his replica would do. He could just leave him there - return to the safety and serenity of his heart, and leave Riku to finish off his night alone, how he’d intended it. Or he could --

The curtain around him fizzed and parted, the mist quickly dissipating to reveal none other than Repliku, now gloveless  _ and  _ shirtless - completely bare from the waist up. It wasn’t until his replica waded closer that he realized he was also  _ bootless,  _ and only because they’d knocked toes together; he knew his other wouldn’t admit it, but he was  _ clearly  _ struggling to see from beneath the bangs that now stuck to his face. By the time they’d both re-settled, they were turned towards each other, and far enough behind the waterfall that it was more noise than pressure. It was  _ loud,  _ almost  _ too  _ loud, but for the moment, Riku didn’t mind letting nature talk for him. It was also dark, darker than the night in there, but Riku knew  _ that  _ wasn’t really a problem for either of them.

Tentatively, Riku reached up a hand to push soggy silver out of Repliku’s eyes, who neither shied away from nor pressed into the touch. Somehow, it felt more like summer tucked away into this natural nook than it had back out on the beach and in the sun.

_ I know what you’re doing, Riku. _

Riku didn’t  _ hear  _ Repliku so much as he just knew what he had said. He’d watched his mouth form the words, and watched as eyes the same color as his own swam with the same kind of warm, crystal clarity as the water around them. Riku hummed, a rather useless action, before forming his response.

_ And? What am I doing? _

He couldn’t be sure he’d actually  _ used  _ his voice or not, the vibrations and sound deafened by the fall, but he didn’t miss the slightest,  _ smallest  _ uplift of one of his replica’s eyebrows. He’d still been heard. But, his question went unanswered, so Riku tried something else. Something a bit  _ bolder.  _ He raised his hand again, the same one he’d used to brush Repliku’s bangs away, but this time instead of touching hair, his hand touched the soft skin of his replica’s cheek. He slowly slid his fingers back until they curled behind an ear, calloused palm gently cupping the side of his other’s jaw, until his thumb could press  _ just so  _ against the delicate skin beneath a teal eye.  _ Again,  _ Repliku didn’t flinch, but the only part of him that moved were his eyes; dancing across Riku’s face as if they were looking for something. Maybe a dance partner.

_ Do you want me to stop? _

Another question, but one Riku hoped would be a little easier to answer. However, he was yet again met with silence, and he worried that maybe that silence was an answer within itself, and that the answer was  _ yes.  _ Before he could drop his hand, though, his replica took a small step forward, shrinking the distance between them. His eyes were open wide, full of curiosity and anticipation, and a twinkle of boyish charm. Of  _ light.  _ Riku’s breath hitched, his heart swelling with pride and affection.

“Do you think they’re looking for you?” The sound of Repliku’s voice above the waterfall was a bit of a shock to Riku, but he quickly recovered as it ebbed and gave way to a wry smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Sure, it was selfish, but it was also  _ true.  _ Such a fact didn’t dampen the amusement rumbling through his chest any, and it was well worth the look his replica gave him. Which was incredulous, and  _ fond  _ ; he could feel Repliku’s cheek puff up against the palm of his hand as he huffed.

“And to think -  _ I  _ got called a brat.” Repliku smirked, but it was a little too bright to really count, and wobbling with suppressed laughter, and Riku decided then and there that he  _ would  _ give that boy  _ everything.  _

Everything that he could.

Riku had always assumed his first kiss would be given to Sora, but that was the thing about  _ assuming.  _ And this was okay. Maybe even  _ better.  _ He had no real way of knowing, at least not yet, and maybe not ever. But the way Repliku’s laughter melted between their mouths and the way his eyes instantly fluttered shut? The way he didn’t press in until Riku made to pull away? Blindly following, trusting,  _ wanting  _ \- it was  _ perfect.  _ It was  _ silent;  _ no fireworks or heart songs, but the rushing water sort of sounded like applause, and it was  _ perfect.  _

It was undeniable proof of just how far they’d come. There was no hatred there, not between them or towards themselves. The only jealousy being that of a childhood lost and a strength gained. There was darkness, both around and within them, growing stronger and deeper, but only because of how brightly their light mixed and mingled together. They’d both fought for that light, for love, for this second chance. And, more recently, for  _ each other.  _ And Riku would  _ keep  _ fighting. Not only for himself, or Sora, but for Repliku, too.

Riku slid his hand away from his replica’s cheek, fingers dragging and joining drops of water down his neck, over his clavicle, until his palm rested heavy, but comfortably, atop his left pec. Water pooled between his fingers, and beneath them, Riku felt the steady, racing pulse of a heart.  _ Repliku’s heart.  _ It was beating far too fast and out of sync with his own to  _ be  _ his own. When Riku looked back up into his replica’s face, despite the constant drizzle of water they were under, he could tell that he was  _ crying.  _ Quickly, Riku moved his hand back up, and joined it with the other, until he had Repliku’s face gently caged in his hands and their foreheads pressed together.

“What’s wrong,  _ Real Thing?”  _ Riku put extra emphasis on the old nickname because this was a moment of significance.  _ Pivotal.  _ The memory, the realization, the impossible  _ yet again  _ proving to somehow  _ be  _ possible  _.  _ Repliku laughed, stuttery and wet,  _ disbelieving,  _ even amidst the drum of victory surely banging against the bones of his ribcage. Riku couldn’t help but join in, his own laughter adding to the humidity between them. He’d blame the stinging in  _ his  _ eyes on the saltwater, though.

Then, like someone on the outside had cast a Magnet spell, like they were two halves desperately trying to be  _ whole  _ instead of one and the same  _ ,  _ they were kissing again. It was a bit messier where their mouths met this time, while their bodies did their best to fill in the dips and gaps between them. Whereas Riku’s hands slid back into the wet silk of his replica’s hair, tangling and clinging, Repliku’s hands slid up and around Riku’s neck, anchoring into the soaked, see-through fabric of his shirt. Whereas Riku bent his knees a bit to accommodate for the height difference between them, Repliku pushed up onto his toes as best he could; the feat proving to be a bit tricky as the substrate beneath them shifted. In the end, their actions brought them chest to chest, an outcome neither of them seemed ready to break apart to complain about. Riku  _ certainly  _ didn’t mind. Didn’t mind  _ one bit.  _

He minded it even  _ less  _ when, subconsciously, Repliku’s lower lip ended up sucked between his own; and when he bit down, the give was more supple than the over-ripe fruit he’d grown up on, the sound it produced sweeter than the tea Sora’s mother used to make. Way,  _ way  _ better than any silly superstition - he’d know, because he’d  _ tried.  _ Once. A memory he was  _ sure  _ his replica didn’t share; a memory left untouched by prying eyes, and forgotten by his best friend. But that was okay. Riku was finally,  _ obviously,  _ comfortable enough with himself now not to mind. He could find happiness in this strange kind of solitude, while Sora found his. Could find  _ love  _ in the way that Repliku boldly licked into his mouth.

Riku wasn’t sure what was louder - the rushing of the waterfall or the rushing of blood through his ears. For the next few minutes, the world around him blinked in and out of existence, bouncing between what he could see and what he could  _ feel.  _ Between the shimmering shadows of the crevice they were tucked into and the safe blankness of the back of his eyelids. Between the sharp glimpse of silver caught in his hands and the soft lull and roll of a tongue against his. But then his lungs started screaming for oxygen, and like all good things, even  _ this  _ had to come to an end. Or, at the very least, a pause. Despite the oxygen deprivation though, Riku couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled away - why did he always feel like  _ drowning  _ around his replica?

At least this time, the metaphorical drowning seemed  _ mutual.  _ Just inches away from him, Repliku was struggling not to inhale Riku's every exhale, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth hanging open,  _ swollen.  _ He felt the fingers in his shoulders flex and relax, as if unsure what to do now. It made Riku smile, while he scraped the blunt nails of his own fingers against his replica’s scalp, in what he hoped was a soothing kind of way. The effect it had was instant, evident in the way Repliku’s breath hitched and his body shivered, the boy falling just a little slack in the knees. Riku caught him, because of  _ course  _ he did, though Repliku tried to right himself as best he could by digging his fingers into Riku’s shoulder just a bit more. Not enough to  _ hurt,  _ but enough to send Riku’s thoughts spiraling southward; he wished  _ he  _ wasn’t wearing a shirt, too.

“  _ Riku.  _ ”

His name was pressed to the skin just below his neck, but above the hem of his shirt, right where his replica could reach. It wasn’t yet cold on the island, even in the water, but he still broke out in goosebumps. It had always amazed him - just how  _ much  _ his name could hold. Entire sentences, complex ideas and endless emotion, all nestled between just two syllables. He was used to his name sounding heavy, but not from a mouth that used to be  _ his.  _ Admittedly, it was a  _ little  _ weird, but not weird enough to keep him from wanting to hear  _ more. Riku.  _ It’d been whispered,  _ raw,  _ with emotion straight from the heart. Straight from  _ Repliku’s heart.  _ A heart that deserved so,  _ so  _ much more - and Riku wanted to hear it  _ all.  _ Every last little thing that heart had to say.

Blindly, Riku reached up to pluck Repliku’s fingers from his shoulders until he could press their palms together, warm and wet. It was a pleasant moment of reprieve before Riku flashed a smirk, and in one, fluid motion, whirled around in the water and hoisted his replica up by the arms. The action earned him a shout, sure, but it also earned him Repliku’s quick reflexes; arms and legs wrapping around him  _ just  _ like he’d wanted. It took another shift or two for Repliku to settle into the safety of the hold and to trust Riku in his piggyback skills, but eventually Riku had them wading their way back through the waterfall.

He used to carry Sora like this, back when they were kids. When the breath on the back of his neck was far less distracting. When the heart beating against his back was far less distracting. When the subtle, but solid, press of  _ heat  _ to his spine was far less distracting. When he didn’t want to just stop and melt into the body behind him. Around him. He used to carry Sora like this, but --

Sora had never held  _ him  _ like  _ this. _

As Riku stepped his way back over stone and into sand, he didn’t miss the way his replica wriggled against him, or the small sound exhaled by his ear. He didn’t say anything - gave Repliku a chance to try and come up with some excuse or another, if he wanted. But there came no excuse, no  _ shame.  _ Just continual, comfortable silence as the air around them sizzled. However, water and  _ electricity  _ were usually a pretty bad mix; water and  _ sand  _ arguably even  _ worse  _ , so as he walked his way back over to his shoes, Riku whispered a small Aero spell. The magic was just strong enough to form a bit of a bubble around them, a warm waft of air to help dry them off since Riku hadn’t really thought of bringing  _ towels.  _

He hadn’t actually thought of much of anything, though. Not when it came to  _ this.  _ It’s not like he’d  _ pre-  _ planned this little rendezvous with his replica. He was just...following his heart.

And his heart was telling him to forget his shoes and go lay the boy at his back down somewhere beneath the stars. So he  _ did.  _

Repliku didn’t question him, even as he abruptly turned away from his boots and walked back down the path to the beach. Just silently clung to him as their hearts figured out how to beat in sync. It was well and truly night now; the last rays of the sun long gone and replaced by an endless backdrop of the universe, but the moon was  _ bright.  _ Full and high in the cloudless sky, lighting his way almost as clear as day. Destiny Islands were beautiful at best; the mornings magical and the sunsets romantic. But, an evening in Destiny Islands was Riku’s  _ favorite.  _ The evenings were always ethereal.

Riku reached the same spot they’d been sitting in earlier within a matter of minutes. A quick glance around revealed that, this time, they were  _ really  _ alone. The old paopu tree bent, but vacant, and the sand sculptures from earlier reclaimed by the high-tide. His heart clenched.  _ Had  _ his friends looked for him? If so, how  _ hard  _ ? Had they all gone back to the ship worrying about him? Or, had they found it easy to fall asleep, with stomachs full of fruit and hearts full of promises?

“You planning on putting me down? You don’t have to -- just curious.”

The sound of his replica’s voice, lilting and almost laughing in his ear, broke Riku out of his thoughts and shook the guilt free from his heart. For a few seconds, the only response he gave was a hum, eyes scanning the glittery sea before them. But, eventually, he relented - gave Repliku’s thighs a gentle squeeze before helping him carefully slide down and off his back. He instantly missed the warmth; the beach breeze actually feeling  _ chilly  _ in comparison. He wasn’t left out in the scary, encroaching cold of reality for too long, though. Before his heart could second-guess the situation and pitch his brain into a panic, a clammy hand reached for his and  _ tugged. _

Riku fell to the sand with a huff, limbs landing hard on either side of his smug looking replica, while specks fell through the air around them like glitter.

“ _ Careful.  _ ” Repliku murmured, the smirk on his face somehow equal parts sweet and  _ shit-eating. _

Riku  _ knew  _ he was supposed to play along, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember his half of this call and response. And anything else he could have said just dried up in his throat, like the jellyfish he used to poke with sticks when they washed up on the beach. Even though he was pretty sure the moon was still shining up above them somewhere in the sky, he had to wonder if his replica hadn’t pulled it down right along with him, because he felt like he was somehow still looking at it. Beneath them, the sand looked like granite; a rolling shadow broken up only by the scattering of seaglass; a facsimile of the night around them. Despite the gravity and what he could feel between his digits, like  _ this  _ , it was as if the elements of this world had blurred together; the land, the sea, the sky were  _ one.  _

His only landmark was peeking up at him through soft, silver clouds of hair. The normally straight strands gone all wavy due to moisture and wind. Riku could only imagine what his own hair looked like - though he rather liked his new cut, he hadn’t had the time yet to test it with a day at the beach. Before today. But, he mustn’t look  _ too  _ silly if his replica had nothing to say about it. Not that Repliku was looking at his  _ hair  _ , anyways; bright teal fixed to a point much lower on his face. Like his  _ lips. _

Mouths regained contact while a wave crashed behind them, as if the whole world needed to hear. Hands found hands in a gritty hold, held high in the sand on either side of Repliku’s head. One kiss turned into two, which turned into tongue and then some teeth, and then those teeth moved over - to jaw bone and neck skin and then the sensitive spot behind an ear. Riku pressed a secret there, an  _ oath,  _ to protect what matters  _ most.  _ Sealed it with a kiss, and then a lick to that jumping pulse. His replica was breathing hard, lips wet but voice dry; each little sound he made cracking in the middle.  _ Ahs  _ and  _ mms  _ and others Riku couldn’t even describe, but could probably imitate if he hadn’t already decided this night wasn’t about  _ him.  _

Not  _ him-  _ him, that is.

His mouth had made it down to the clavicle when a tight squeeze to his hands brought him back up. Repliku was doing that thing again - looking near him but not  _ at  _ him. Riku was going to ask what was wrong, but his replica got there first, his voice as timid as lowtide. “Riku, I don’t know if -- I’ve never really -”

Riku blinked, concerned and confused, before his brain caught up with his heart and he smiled, cutting the other off with a quick question. “Does it feel good?”

Repliku still didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything, either, but his cheeks went rosy in response. Riku laughed.

“I’m going to tell you something someone should have told  _ me  _ years ago:  _ stop thinking about it.  _ ” Riku returned the squeeze, affectionately so, and it finally got his replica to look at him again. Though his expression was open, and honest, it was still unreadable, but far from a  _ no  _ or a  _ stop.  _ It was wide, dark eyes - pools of darkness making blue rings seem that much  _ brighter,  _ and a trembling, bitten bottom lip. It was blooming bruises against alabaster skin, pink for the moment but soon to be purple, a map of the only places his mouth had been so far. It was unexpectedly shy, and  _ starving.  _ It was beautiful. Maybe Riku was a better reader than he thought.

“You  _ saved  _ me. Consider this returning the favor - for then  _ and  _ tomorrow. You just lie back and look  _ pretty.  _ ” Riku dropped his voice down to a playful purr, his smile turning into a kind-hearted smirk when Repliku rolled his eyes with a huff; but there was no denying the way his face burned even  _ pink-er.  _

Riku couldn’t believe just how cute that was. How cute his  _ replica  _ was. How cute  _ he’d  _ been. Maybe Sora really was straight. Or blind. Or utterly oblivious. One thing was for certain: his best friend was  _ definitely  _ missing out. And Riku was  _ just  _ smart and narcissistic enough to not let this opportunity pass him by. Besides --

They could all  _ die  _ tomorrow.

Though, that went without saying, and he was trying not to think about it, trying not to think like  _ that  _ . So he busied himself with leaving the next bruise right between Repliku’s pecs, and the one after that a little to the left, over his  _ heart.  _ They’d been training, all of them, and there were now so  _ many  _ of them. They were stronger, smarter, they just had to  _ believe --  _ absent-mindedly, Riku licked a little lower, until his tongue found and curled around a nipple. Fleetingly, he remembered a poem he’d read, once (back when he had the  _ time  _ ), something about the world not ending with a bang, but a -

“ _ Rikuu.”  _

Riku’s breath hitched. Fingers found their way into his hair, lightly scratching sand and nails against his scalp. The body beneath him arched, pressed cool chest to warm mouth just a little more. Riku looked up without pulling up, which meant he couldn’t see much, but what he  _ could  _ see told him everything he needed to know; the stretched skin of neck and jaw, the underside of a chin, the tip of a nose - his replica had his head tossed back.

It was a little weird, hearing his own voice calling,  _ whimpering,  _ his own name. But only a little, and only because Riku refused to say it back. Refused to call his replica anything but “  _ Beautiful  _ ” out loud. Which he did. Whispered it right there, the word falling around the now hardened, sensitive flesh of his replica’s nipple. Riku might call him Repliku in his head, but that’s just because Sora had started calling him that, and it had kind of stuck. But Repliku deserved better than that. He wasn’t  _ Riku,  _ or even a copy  _ of  _ Riku. He was himself, his own, and he’d use a name when his replica chose one. But, until then, it was Beautiful, and a silently tacked on  _ Breathtaking.  _ Because he was.

His hands now free, Riku removed his lips from Repliku’s chest and let his fingers take their place, gentle thumbs rubbing and rolling slow circles against nubs. He left more kisses on his way down, a bruise for each ab, until his tongue dipped into his replica’s belly button, and the gasp that earned sounded much more like a  _ laugh.  _ The muscles beneath his mouth quivered, spurred him on, and Riku didn’t  _ dare  _ move from there until his teeth were just too much, and the fingers in his hair tried to pull. When he did, it was just far enough away to hover, to admire the new marks he’d left, and to realize that Repliku was panting hard enough to be heard over the waves. An entirely different,  _ enticing  _ kind of crash and roll; the subtle sound of a building tidal wave.

When Riku moved again, it was to nose his way through the soft, ticklish tufts of hair just below that abused belly button. He shushed Repliku on the way down, not because he  _ wanted  _ him to be quiet, but because he wanted to soothe. His replica was  _ safe  _ here. With him, in his arms, on the beach of his home, under the weighted blanket of night.  _ They  _ were safe here, if only for now, and maybe for the last time. But, the night was young, and so were they -- still plenty of time to sleep later. Or, for Riku to lie awake and try to convince himself that this couldn’t be anything more than a  _ dream.  _

For, what had he ever done, to deserve  _ this? _

There was movement beneath him. The tiniest, barest rocking of hips, and Riku wasn’t given the time to dwell on what he’d  _ done  _ to deserve this; his attention better spent focussing on what he was  _ going to do to this.  _ This being his replica, and the state he’d gotten him in. Quickly, Riku changed his position a bit - moved his hands to Repliku’s hips and scooted down into the sand until he was lying on his side next to Repliku’s thigh. This way, he was eye-level with his final destination; the one place already clearly marked with an X on his map. Bold, black, and buckled right over the tent in his replica’s pants.

Cautiously, Riku curled his fingers beneath the larger belt and waistband of his replica’s pants, until his blunt nails brushed skin. When he looked up for confirmation or reassurance, Repliku still refused to look at him, but he saw the slow, singular nod and the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed. All the answer he needed, really, and he made quick work of unshackling the other free of what  _ had  _ to be rather uncomfortable clothing at this point. Not that he was one to talk - the Good Fairies had given him  _ thigh belts.  _ And  _ three  _ of them. But, at least  _ his  _ pants weren’t  _ leather.  _

‘Quick work’ ended up  _ not  _ being all that quick, what with so many belts and half of a skirt in the way, but Riku was a very stubborn man, and Repliku was  _ worth  _ the few minutes of struggle and curses sighed under his breath. As if ever getting  _ Sora  _ undressed would be any  _ easier.  _ It was with a triumphant huff that Riku eventually pushed pants down thighs, and with an excited  _ spap  _ that dick finally sprang free against stomach. And right in front of his face.

Riku was never one to want to  _ thank  _ the Organization, or any of its members, for  _ anything,  _ but -- they’d done a damn good job.

Riku licked his lips and wasted no time returning his hands to now bare hips, the pads of his fingers smoothing down creamy skin. Repliku was so  _ pale  _ like this, laid out in the moonlight, skin a stark, sharp contrast to shadowy sand.  _ Reflective,  _ where precum had smeared through his treasure trail and continued to bead at the tip of his dick. The longer he looked, the more he noticed the soft spattering of  _ pink  _ on that skin, not from bruises, but from embarrassment.  _ Eagerness,  _ maybe. The fingers still in his hair twitched and tugged, and Riku took that as a sign to get a move on before he stared his replica back to  _ softness.  _

He didn’t even manage to wrap his whole hand around him before Repliku bucked up into the open air with a hiss, just the barest brush of fingers. Riku tutted and cooed, put the one hand he still had on his replica’s hip to better use, put  _ pressure  _ on it to keep those hips and that dick  _ down.  _ By the time he had all five fingers curled around soft, searing flesh, Riku knew he’d be leaving a fresh ring of bruises against Repliku’s hip. He wondered if he’d feel them tomorrow -  _ hoped  _ he would. Maybe they’d serve as extra reassurance or motivation in the war to come; give Repliku a reason to win, a reason to  _ live.  _ Not like there was any risk of anyone seeing them when his replica’s everyday outfit covered absolutely every inch of him but his face.

The very same face that was finally  _ looking  _ at him again.

Repliku had curled up into a bit of a crunch to manage, his hair falling between them and around him like some kind of fog, his eyes only visible through glimpses brought on by the breeze. His pupils were  _ blown,  _ no teal to be seen, not  _ now.  _ Just big and black and all encompassing, kind of glossy like he suddenly had all the answers. Like he was looking at Riku, but only just now  _ seeing  _ Riku.  _ The bigger picture.  _ His mouth was open, lips parted and trembling in unspoken tongues, probably struggling to figure out what to say. But, he didn't have to say  _ anything.  _ Riku read  _ that  _ look loud and clear. 

Riku returned that look with a smile and moved his hand. It was just one, smooth stroke upwards, while his replica fell backwards, back into the sand, out of Riku’s view but not out of earshot. Riku didn’t miss the long, low sigh of satisfaction. The pace he set wasn’t  _ quick;  _ a slow slide down, a squeeze on the way back up, a twist of the wrist and a flick of his thumb right over the tip. Riku’d never given anyone other than himself a handjob before, but this at least usually worked for  _ him,  _ and as different as they were, Repliku  _ technically  _ was him, too, so it only seemed logical to start with what he knew. And what he knew seemed to be working  _ wonders,  _ what with the way his replica’s body squirmed and heaved beneath him, the fingers in his hair holding ever tighter as time went on. As he got  _ closer. _

There was so much  _ more  _ Riku wished he could do, but the location and his lack of supplies were far from helpful, so he settled for this; glancing down to take in the way toes were curling into the sand, moving his hand a little further up the hip so the bruises he left weren’t black, glancing up to the heart he could see threatening to beat free from its chest. He wished he could be in that heart now - that somehow they could trade places so that  _ he  _ could sleep somewhere, at ease and at peace, in someone who wholly accepted him; understood and appreciated and wanted and  _ saved  _ him. He knew, without a doubt, that Repliku would  _ take him,  _ if only he could.

The fingers in his hair formed  _ fists,  _ the tug somewhere between pleasurable and painful, but amidst the throbbing in his skull, he registered what sounded like  _ words.  _ Or, one word, but repeated over and over again, “Oh, oh,  _ oh -”  _ each breath holding more tension and bewilderment than the last. It was as if his replica couldn’t believe what was happening; how each stroke could keep feeling better and  _ better.  _ It was  _ beautiful,  _ and just a wee bit cute, and Riku couldn’t resist leaning back in to litter his replica’s stomach, hip, thigh with more sloppy kisses. Sloppy because he was grinning, pressing down hard enough that his nose squished against sweaty skin.

When Riku pulled away again, it was just to whisper an encouraging and affectionate, “I’ve got you.” And that was  _ it,  _ his replica was  _ gone.  _ Emotionally, spiritually,  _ literally  _ -

_ Gone. _

Just like that, Riku was gripping nothing but air, his face falling into the sand with a surprised, confused huff. Quickly, he pushed himself up, shaking his head free of grains and strands until he could see that,  _ yes,  _ he was  _ alone.  _ But, left in his replica’s wake was  _ stardust.  _ Warm mist and glitter swirling through the air around him; silver and blue, purple and black, and upon closer inspection,  _ pink.  _ If he squinted. It stuck to his hair and his skin worse than the sand, probably got in his eyes, and he was  _ tempted  _ to stick out his tongue. He felt like he was in a snowglobe - the kind tourists could still buy from the main island. He probably should have felt sad, or at least a little offended, but there was no room for it. Not when his heart felt so  _ full.  _ So, he laughed. 

It was the kind of laugh that started from somewhere deep in his belly, so that by the time it reached his mouth, it was nothing more than bubbles; gasps and wheezes and giggles that made his eyes crinkle and cry. He just laid there, arms and legs stretched out in the sand, with his head thrown back, and  _ laughed  _ into the air. To anyone else he might seem  _ crazy,  _ but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. He was going to  _ war  _ tomorrow. He could  _ die  _ tomorrow.

There was a tug on his heart, and his laughter simmered down into a hum.

The trek to the old paopu tree was short. He wasn’t one to usually climb it - the seating arrangements settled long ago. Then again, he wasn’t usually at the tree  _ alone.  _ Not that he was really alone now, but it still felt a little weird to settle comfortably against its trunk, back to the bend and a leg dangling off either side. He could easily sleep there, and maybe he would, but he decided that he should probably eat something first. It had always been a bit of a struggle to reach the fruit as a kid, but now it was nothing more than an easy reach with his arm. Besides, the best ones were the  _ over-  _ ripe ones, and those one’s hung low. As far as he’d been told, anyways; not like he made a habit of eating paopu fruit on his own.

But he  _ wasn’t  _ alone.

Upon taking his first bite, it was far less bitter than he remembered.

  
  
  
  
  


“That’s not  _ just  _ an empty vessel. It’s filled with  _ important memories.  _ ”

“ _ Promise me  _ \- you’ll be  _ careful  _ with it.”

  
  



End file.
